


The Drawing Room

by Commander_Freddy



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - No War, Childhood, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12056130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commander_Freddy/pseuds/Commander_Freddy
Summary: For Udobure Week 2017's Day One prompt: Childhood!Brady is faced with meeting Owain face to face in a formal occasion for the very first time at age nine, and is worried about living up to his mother's name.





	The Drawing Room

 

"There!" Maribelle announced, giving one final tug to her son's dark waistcoat. "Now you look like a real little prince, don't you, dear?"

Brady scratched at the puffy white sleeves that protruded from the vest. His shirt didn't itch or anything - it was actually a very fine silk - but he couldn't shake the growing tangle of nausea in his stomach.

"How'm s'pozda look like prince when 'm sittin' next t' a real one?" he mumbled, fiddling with his buttons.

"Speak up, darling," said Maribelle. "Nice open mouth so the words can get out - that's it. Now what did you say?"

"Why'd ya gotta say I look like a prince?" he asked. "Now I gotta sit next t' the real prince 'n' 'm gonna look like a right monkey."

"You're not a monkey, dearest," said Maribelle, pausing in the removal of her hair curlers to give her son a pat on the head. "You're doing very well in all your classes and I know you're just as much a gentleman on the inside as you are on the outside. I'm sure Prince Owain will be simply dazzled by your kind heart. And your violin skills," she added after a moment.

Ugh. He hadn't even thought of how the prince himself would see him, he'd been so busy worried about looking ridiculous to Princess Lissa. But no, Owain would be in some ways even more important to impress. Someday, Owain could be exalt, and Brady would inherit his mother's lands and titles and duties and would have to report on Owain, rely on him for funding and approval, live in a court dictated by Owain's whims...

"Ma, I feel real sick," he said. "I gotta stay home."

"That's just nervous gas, you get that from your father," Maribelle replied around a tube of lipstick.

Brady turned white. "I can't be gassy 'front of the prince, Ma!" he cried. "I gotta stay home!"

"Brady." Maribelle closed her makeup case, and sat down on the ottoman opposite her son. "Prince Owain is a little boy, just like you. I know he outranks you-"

"He outranks ev'ryone," said Brady, now nibbling at his fingernails.

"Now, now, don't hurt your little fingers, you need those for your violin," murmured Maribelle, drawing his hand from his mouth. "But remember, darling, I was once in the same position as you. The exact same position, heir to the same lands you are now, and desperate to impress the youngest member of the exalted family."

"Yeah, but..." said Brady. "Ya real nice, Ma. Real smart, 'n' good wif magic 'n'- What?" he asked, staring at his now giggling mother.

"I'm flattered you think so highly of me, my dear," said Maribelle. "But back when I was nine, not many people would have said such things of me. In fact, I was quite the little brat."

"No!" said Brady.

Maribelle laughed again. "It's true, darling, very true. I was such a perfectionist, I'd go bright red and scream whenever something went wrong. And I was such a diva, I saw problems in everything, and everyone. I used to lash out at other people... and myself." Her voice softened, and Brady saw something in her eyes that made him think she wasn't really talking to him anymore. "Lissa was my only hope. All the other noble children had realised how obnoxious I was, and wanted nothing to do with me. I dared not hope for anything more than her tolerating me, or finding a way to hide all my flaws. But when we finally got to know each other?"

Brady leant forward. "What?"

"She thought I was adorable." Maribelle grinned. "She saw my perfectionism as knowledge, and I worked hard to make sure I had the facts to back up my demands.  But when I was with Lissa, I hardly ever needed to demand something, or criticise or... She just had - has - this way of making everything seem alright, turning mistakes into adventures and the like." Maribelle smiled. "And because she didn't hate me for my flaws, I found it easier to talk about them with her, and work on them with her, because I knew she'd still love me whether I succeeded or not. Which, obviously, made the whole process that much easier." Maribelle smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Brady's face. "So you needn't fear Owain, or Lissa. They're lovely people, and I know you're going to have a great relationship with them. I really want you to have something as precious as what I have with Lissa, and I know you're going to be able to find it."

"Ma..." said Brady, blinking tears from his eyes. "That's even more pressure!"

He threw himself onto Maribelle's enormous four-poster bed with a wail, and lay there like a dead fish.

"I'm not saying it has to be with Owain," said Maribelle, back on her feet. "I'm just trying to tell you, there's some real good that can come out of this."

"Don' care," said Brady into the sheets. "'M sick."

Maribelle gave a great, dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose we all get sick sometimes. Not to worry dear, I shall take great care of you. Oh!" she cried, as if having a gerat epiphany. "But the priests say it can be dangerous for young souls to be exposed to too much magic in a short period of time, and you did have to get your leg set last month, so I suppose it's just good old fashioned herbal baths for you."

Brady lifted his head just enough so he could glare at his mother.

"Ya 'orrible," he muttered.

"It's a tea party or three hours stewing in your own personal Brady-soup," said Maribelle. "Make your choice."

Brady kept his glare on firm as he approached his mother.

"May I ‘scort you t’ Princess Lissa's chambers?" he hissed, offering her his arm.

"Why, I thought you'd never ask."

 

At the door to the Princess’ drawing room, Brady allowed himself a few deep breaths as they waited for the guards to announce their presence. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d met Lissa or Owain – they lived in the same palace after all – but this was his first time interacting with them on a formal basis. Maribelle hadn’t just come to have tea with an old friend, though, with Maribelle, everything involved tea. She’d come to visit the Princess to submit a proposal for a new aqueduct in the family’s holding, and Brady was here not as a guest, but as a part of the family’s negotiating party. What with how close they were in age, Lissa had decided it would be the perfect time to introduce Owain to courtly negotiations too. Which didn’t exactly make the already daunting day any less terrifying.

The carved double doors in front of him swung open silently, and his mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Come along, dear.”

He was two steps into the open and airy drawing room before the squealing began.

“Aw, Brady! Don’t you look just adorable!”

Lissa had appeared from nowhere, and before Brady could even comprehend her arrival, she had grabbed him by the armpits and swung him up into the air.

“Love the vest, Maribelle!” she called to her friend. And then, once she’d caught sight of Maribelle’s outfit, too, “Aw, you two even match!”

Brady was replaced to his feet much slower than he had been lifted, but was left dizzy all the same. Wasn’t this supposed to be a formal occasion? Sure, Lissa would always be Lissa, but he’d expected something a little more…

“Your Royal Highness,” said Maribelle with a deep curtsey. “We are most honoured to submit our proposal for the Themis Aqueduct to your court.”

…That.

“Oh, cool!” said Lissa. “Are those the blueprints there?” She pointed a decidedly unladylike finger toward the leather case Maribelle carried.

“Of course,” replied Maribelle.

“Yeah, you never come unprepared, huh?” asked Lissa with a grin. “Ah! I forgot to tell you to sit! You can sit, I promise! Here, up at the table, I got your tea. And Brady, what kind of biscuits do you like?”

Maribelle tapped him gently as she steered him towards the table by the windows – a seating arrangement far too large and opulent for four people.

“Uh…” he said, instantly forgetting every kind of dessert on the planet. “…Don’ like raisins.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m exactly the same,” said Lissa with a flap of her hands as she sat. “Owain, pass the biscuits to the duchess’ son, please?”

A huge, tiered tray of pastries shifted across the table, revealing at last the exalted Prince Owain, third in line to the Ylissean throne. He was a scrawny little kid, much shorter than Brady, with a smattering of crumbs around his mouth and hair sticking up at all angles. But he was still undeniably a prince, for no other young boy would be so thoroughly bedecked in cloth-of-gold.

“Greetings!” the little prince boomed.

Brady rose, bowed half way, got embarrassed, looked up to meet Owain’s curious eyes, finished his bow, and then sat again. He did not take one of the biscuits from the tray. He did, however, accept a cup of tea from his mother, and wasted no time in guzzling it down. Anything to occupy himself instead of making a fool of himself in front of the Prince again.

Maribelle was staring at him. What now? Oh, right.

“Thank fer th’ tea, Ya Royal Highness,” he said to Lissa. “’S right delicious.”

“Glad you like it!” said Lissa. “We got it from Valm.”

“Isn’t that amazing?” said Owain, leaning forward. “These fine plants lived and bloomed in soil I have never touched, half a world away, and now I can drink them at my own table!”

“Y-yeah,” said Brady, “Trade with Valm, uh…”

The only thing he knew about Valm was that Kjelle’s dad was from there, and he liked to hear Brady’s violin playing. Dammit! That didn’t have anything to do with tea!

“I’d love to be a part of a trading voyage one day,” said Owain. “Imagine it – weeks all alone on the rollicking sea, the wind in your hair, on a voyage to lands unseen! And then I could drink the tea fresh!”

“Tea has to be dried in order to be brewed, dear,” said Maribelle, as if she was speaking to her own son.

“Oh,” said Owain. “Well, I’d be able to _see_ them dry the tea, watch them pick it from the fields, select the very best and have a tea festival and wouldn’t that be cool, Brady?”

“Um,” said Brady. He hadn’t really thought about tea or sailing this much before. His world was the temple, the duchy, and his mother’s apartments in the palace. Festivals in foreign places really weren’t in his wheelhouse.

“I dunno,” he said. “What would the festival be like?”

“Ah, an excellent question!” Owain replied. “Naturally there would be tea-tastings.”

“Makes sense,” said Brady.

“And it would take place in a tea field!”

“Uh huh.”

“And there’d be… uh…” Owain shovelled another biscuit into his mouth. “Oh! Tea flavoured food!”

“’s that a thing?” asked Brady.

“We shall make it a thing!” announced Owain. “The Valm tea festival, home of the world’s first tea-tea-cakes!” He leant forward again. Was the prince perhaps allergic to his chair? “Those are tea-cakes that are flavoured with tea.”

“Yeah, I uh, I got that,” said Brady. “But, um… Would there be dancing?” he asked.

“Dancing!” cried Owain. “Dancing…”

He stroked his chin, so clearly imitating the head priest of the palace temple that Brady nearly snorted at the sight.

“Mother,” he whispered, turning to where Lissa and Maribelle were talking. “What kind of dances do they do at festivals?”

“Polka,” Lissa whispered back with no hesistation.

“We shall do the polka at the tea festival!” Owain declared to Brady.

“Oh,” said Brady. “That’s cool, I guess. I dunno how to polka, though.”

“Me neither!” Owain grinned.

“Uh… I reckon I could learn t’ play a polka on m’ fiddle, though,” Brady continued.

Owain’s eyes bugged.

“Of course!” he cried. “You shall be the main event! We’ll set up a bandstand in the middle of the field for you, and people will flock to-”

“Um,” said Brady. “I don’ think ‘m good ‘nough for a crowd t’ watch yet. ‘S mainly just family friends who done heard me now.”

“Oh, of course!” Owain flipped his cape over his shoulder as he nodded. “There will be plenty of time for preparations and rehearsals. And, of course, you shall have the entire voyage to play for the crew.”

Brady thought of himself perched on the bow of a ship looking out over across the sea as he played some of his favourite tunes, the Prince and a few sailors at his feet laughing along the words. The creaks and groans of the great wooden vessel would be his percussion, and his own ears his tutor.

“That sounds… nice,” he said. “Real nice. I’d like t’ spend some time on a ship.”

Owain nodded vigorously, his hair flying in even stranger directions.

“Naturally, I shall be in charge of protecting our vessel,” he declared.

“Protecting…?” asked Brady.

“Why, from pirates, of course!” said Owain. “The devils of the ocean, the sea-scourges that prey on the merchant boats and pleasure craft that seek only to live their lives! Scoundrels of the deep that rise with rusted cutlasses and curses in their heart to-”

“Stop!” cried Brady, slapping hands over his ears. “I don’ wan’ pirates on our ship!”

“Ah, kindhearted Acolyte Brady…” said Owain. “There shall be no pirates. For I, Prince Owain, chosen hero of Ylisse and cursed bearer of a swordhand that-”

“Owain, honey,” said Lissa, turning from her conversation with Maribelle to pat her son’s head. “Can you keep it down for a sec?”

Owain nodded just as intensely as before.

Shuffling so far forward as to almost be lying on the table, he whispered to Brady, “I shall keep the pirates at bay.”

“Good,” replied Brady. “And, uh, I’ll heal ya! If th’ pirates put up a fight!”

Owain grinned, as excited as a puppy. “Why, thank you!” He settled back into his seat and did his best to bow while at a table. “I am in your debt.”

“But, ‘course, pirates ain’t even gonna come near us,” said Brady. “One look at our flag up th’ mast-”

“And they’ll run screaming for home!” finished Owain.

Maribelle shut her leather case with a heavy thud, and Brady whipped his head around to face his mother. Oh no. He’d spent all this time talking with Owain and no time at all contributing to the aqueduct thing. Maybe there was still a chance to help…

“Construction will begin as soon as the river freezes,” announced Maribelle. “I shall be sure to keep you updated every step of the way.”

“Thank you, duchess!” said Lissa.

“Oh no,” murmured Brady.

 

After yet more cake and tea, the Themis delegation were finally allowed to leave, but not before Brady had found himself sucked once more into Owain’s wild imagination, against his greatest efforts to stay focused. But now he was once more outside with his mother, and taking deep breaths.

“Thank you, officer,” he heard her say to a guard. And then, “Now come along dear. I know you’re not hungry, but the Shepherds are having a family dinner tonight and we mustn’t be late.”

“’M sorry, Ma,” was all he could say.

Maribelle stopped. “Brady?” she asked. “Whatever’s the matter?”

“I ain’t said nothin’ ‘bout the aqueduct,” he said. “Spent all m’ time goofin’ off with Owain.”

To his great surprise, his mother simply smiled, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“My dear, you are nine years old,” she said. “There will be plenty of time for aqueducts in the future. Right now, what is most important for you to learn is the art of diplomacy. And-” she continued, before Brady could bemoan his performance any further, “diplomacy is more than just drafting documents and learning how to bow to a foreign king. It’s about learning how interpret other people. How to understand them, speak their own personal language, and know what they want. And you did a truly spectacular job with Prince Owain today.”

“…I did?”

Maribelle nodded. “Indeed. I think he’s taken quite a shine to you.”

“Oh,” said Brady. “That’s good, I reckon. I feel pretty sparkly for ‘im, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Udobure Week everyone! Hope you enjoyed this fluffy nonsense - I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone makes in the coming days, and making some more stuff, myself!


End file.
